Jareth paced his room, deep lines furrowing his brow. His mind was in turmoil over the current situation. One the one hand there was Sarah. Oh beautiful Sarah, who had a body that could...that could...he found himself unable to think of an appropriate metaphor. He did not want to say "turn any man's head" as he did want any other man to look at his Sarah, ever again. He had examined her because he had needed to know if her hymen was intact to see if his plan for tomorrow was possible. If it had been, he would have devised another scheme, unwillingly to break it in some artificial way. But it was already broken. That would suit him fine.
But oh, when he had examined her. The sight of her laid bare before him. Those breasts, so much grown from the last time he had seen her, were begging for his hands and mouth. And when he had crouched to look inside her...he had not realised until that point the effect he himself had one her. But the dampness, the scent, it had been unmistakeable. And he had wanted her at that moment. Wanted her like he had never wanted any of the women with whom he had had casual sex. He had desired her. He had wanted to see her fulfilled, not merely to fulfil himself. Jareth shook his head to try and clear his thoughts.
He wanted to protect her from all harm. But then there was the Labyrinth, with whom he was intrinsically linked. What it felt, he felt. He it was pleased, he shouted with joy. When, it was melancholy, he wept bitter tears. And when it was angry...he knew that he could not deny it penance. It would hurt too deeply. At least he suspected that Sarah cared enough for him that she would not bear any grudge against him, he hoped that was the case. Although perhaps a little payback would not be out of the question...
Calm yourself, Jareth told himself firmly. At present you are devising penance for Sarah tomorrow. Jareth paused in his pacing beside an elaborate dresser that stood against one wall of the gilt room in which he slept. Opening one of the draws he withdrew a locked box. Pressing his finger to the catch he shut his eyes and murmured a few words in a language unknown to humans. The lock clicked. Jareth lifted the lid and verified the contents. He had known this device would come in useful; otherwise the Labyrinth would not have bothered to make it. It seemed a fitting way to demonstrate power over Sarah in any case.
Jareth snapped the lid shut and replaced it in the draw. He crossed to the elaborate four poster and, kicking off his boots he settled himself on top of the covers, hands behind his head. He wondered vaguely if Sarah was alright. Was she worried? He couldn't tell her that she could not fail the council's tests, but at least he could use the knowledge as comfort to himself. Soon they would be wed, and this whole problem would be behind them. The Labyrinth growled in his mind, after you've been satisfied of course, he added. He felt the Labyrinth relax around him once more. Unbidden an image of Sarah swam into his head. She was in the throne room, scrubbing the floor as she had earlier that day. Only this time she was not concealed from him by annoying human under clothes. Jareth felt his body stir and considered calling a maid to relieve him, but decided against it. He did not want to spoil the illusion that Sarah was right in front of him. Fixing on the image, making the imaginary Sarah scrub harder, arse jiggling faster in the process, Jareth reached his hand down and started stroking and stimulating in time with the scrub scrub of Sarah's brush. When he came he simply magicked the mess away and rolled over. He was tired after the day of excitement and soon he was asleep. When he next awoke, dawn was creeping cautiously over the castle.